Omnium Chronicles
by Gudic
Summary: After her father slips into a coma, a woman named Joan is hired to catch a man named Jamison Fawkes (Junkrat) from deep in the Australian Outback. With madness and death beckoning at every corner, Joan finds herself setting a chain of events in motion which may cause the destruction of not only her, but those most important to her as well.
1. Chapter 1

"You understand how much of an honour it should be for somebody of your credentials to work for a prestigious organisation like the Vishkar Corporation, correct?"

Joan sat in the chair. She didn't care much for the prestige that they offered. She came here because she needed money and refused to think about the moral implications of where it came from. There were lives on the line, and she needed what they had. "I don't care much for your prestige, just take care of him." She replied, "You know my agreement. You do that, then I'm as good as yours." The Vishkar Representative nodded, and leant down to access a filing cabinet. Most of the room was filled with insurmountably advanced technology. It made most of what she was experienced to using appear as if it were made from particularly crummy spare parts found out the back of a third-rate tech shop. That included her arm, unfortunately. The Representative peered into the iris scanner on the filing cabinet, and from it pulled a small manilla folder.

"Contained within this folder is everything you shall need to know about your mission, including various reports your target." The Vishkar Representative stated. He sat for a second, as if he were thinking about his words. "You will be required to take him alive. May I remind you Joan, we need what is trapped inside his head." He added after a pause, "You have a habit of letting the lives of your targets slipping through your fingers, and so I must emphasise the importance of keeping this man alive." Joan stared down at the file. A tab at the top read "Fawkes, Jamison" in emblazoned letters, and a bold red stamp across the front of the file read "Classified" in full capital letters. She opened the file, and was aghast at what she saw. A map upon the inside of the file dictated the location of her target, or at least the last known location he had been recorded at. "You don't seriously think I would willingly go to that dump of a place, do you?" She exclaimed, "I would not be caught dead going to a place like that. That place is death, and we all know that."

The Vishkar Representative leaned back in his chair. "Afraid of death now, are we?" The Representative replied, "If I know your history, and I do, you have a habit of not dying under any circumstance. You have seemingly undergone everything from bullet wounds to amputations, surely a bit of radiation shall not hurt you, right?" Joan slammed her arms down on the desk. "Just because I'm desperate, I ain't going to go guns blazing into the grips of death. Nothing good is going to come out of going there, and you know it. I ain't accepting your offer."

"But if I am not correct, there shall be something good which shall come from it." The Representative retorted, "You shall save the life of your dearly beloved father from the jaws of death, and in turn you will sacrifice yourself to a higher purpose. If I know you, you shall not be put down so easily by radiation. All I ask is that you consider your circumstance, and then our offer."

Joan sat up from the chair, "I'll consider it." She replied, after deliberation, and extended her hand for a handshake. Well, the closest thing she had left to a hand anyway. Her entire right arm had long since been amputated, and all that was left was the stump and an omnic limb: A sore reminder of how she had found herself maimed in the first place. The Vishkar Representative went to shake her hand, then recoiled. "On second thoughts, I would rather shake with the other hand. The one that might not be so swiftly able to end my life." The Representative said. Joan groaned, but decided to oblige and extended her left hand. The two hands met, and the downward motion of the two hands connected perhaps confirmed the agreement. "I look forward to working with you." The Representative said. Joan replied, "Likewise." She said, both of them with a stern expression dictating to each other that they would not be engaging in such activities if they had any other choice.

"You know, if you want we can replace that arm for you if you wish." The Representative added, "We can ensure that it has the same functionality as before, but with so much more versatility and... finesse." He struggled to articulate the last word of his statement, his disgust at the omnic arm overtaking him. "Don't worry about it, this one's far too sentimental to part with." Joan replied, "Besides, it kills things just fine, so I don't need a new one." The Representative nodded, before sitting down.

Joan walked towards the door as if to leave, but the Representative stopped her. "Before you depart, I must have that folder back from you, Joan." He said, "I cannot let you leave the headquarters with classified material." Joan turned her back to him. "Meh, have it." She said, and threw the folio above her head as she headed for the door, paper spilling across the floor. "I probably won't read it anyway." She added, as she exited through the doorway.

"Damn, I wish we could kill her quickly with an execution instead of a mission." The Representative said under his breath as the automated doors closed behind her, "But I suppose that red tape exists for a reason."


	2. Chapter 2

Joan looked down at her father in the hospital bed. He was a large individual, and so his figure was barely able to remain confined to the bed frame. He was sleeping for now, trapped on life support. Unlike her, Joan's father had not been a man on the front lines, instead his wounds were internal. He was comatose, fighting his own inability to interact with the world he knew, and as that world slowly slipped away through the passage of time.

"Dad, I know it's been a while since I last talked to you." Joan said, "I know you said not to sacrifice myself to save you, not to put myself on the line, but I couldn't bear watching you slip as I did nothing." She sighed, and sat down in a chair next to the bed. She gripped her father's loose hand tightly. "I might not make it back from this one, dad." She said, "But whatever happens, they'll help you get through this. You'll get through this." Joan sat with the man for a while. She gripped his hands, and although they were almost lifeless they still remained warm. Perhaps he would never wake, but Joan couldn't sit by as her father slipped through her fingers. She knew what it was like to have loved ones slip away, and she didn't want to wear that burden twofold. She left, knowing that all she could do to help him was to fight in somebody else's war.

She exited the hospital, and called the Representative. "I'll do it." She said, "On the condition that even if I die, you'll see him through." The Representative expressed his satisfaction. "Good, I shall need you to head to the Vishkar Headquarters for a briefing on the operation. I shall expect you there in four hours." He said, "Do ensure that you make it."

The Vishkar Headquarters were perhaps one of the most technologically advanced buildings in existence. Every device was meticulously ordered as to ensure that the building was operating beyond any rational definition of efficiency, and their rigour with intricacy could perhaps be considered almost compulsively excessive. Order and cleanliness was one thing that Vishkar prided above all else, and Joan made sure to regard that pride by tracking mud across the lobby. Joan approached the receptionist and told her that she was to be expected, asking her where her Briefing was to be held. The receptionist beckoned to the elevator, and directed her to the twenty-third floor of the building.

"Due to the irradiation of the location where you are headed, you will have limited reinforcement. However, I can assure that Vishkar can at the very least equip you with the means to retain your sanity whilst walking the desert." The Representative said, "Additionally, we have a few particular devices which should aid in the capture of the individual. Particularly this one." The Representative held a bullet out to Joan. "This is an Experimental Vishkar Incapacitator, or an EVI." The Representative continued, "It is designed to administer a paralysing shock in a similar manner to a Taser, except it does not have the same restriction on range. You will be provided with six rounds." Joan leaned in to look closer at the bullet, however the Representative closed his palm and pocketed the bullet.

"Use them sparingly, Joan. These cost marginally more than anything else in your possession." The Representative added, "And remember, the man you are heading out to encounter is not going to be easy to catch, but far more unforgiving than Jamison is the wasteland itself."


	3. Chapter 3

Joan and the Representative descended into the basement of the facility. To call it a basement was an understatement. In actuality, it was another facility in itself, seemingly built in the husk of a cave yet at the same time constructed in order to prevent this knowledge from being known to anybody but the most intricate observer. This was where the Vishkar Corporation performed their more questionable practices and designed their more lucrative technologies. Joan became distracted by some of the technologies, but the representative quickly pulled her back in line. "You are here to find Jamison, not to go on a sightseeing tour." He said as he tugged upon her shoulder, "There are things which must be done. Follow me." Joan was nonetheless annoyed, but she followed the Representative to a device which emitted a strange circular gate. It was being monitored by several technicians and personnel, ensuring it were to be kept open for as long as is required. "This is a Teleporter, one of the more experimental variety." The Representative said, "Upon the other side you will find yourself within the base of an Australian Subsidiary of Vishkar, where you shall be supplied with various armaments necessary for completing your mission. Good luck." The Representative then stepped back, and began to walk away. However, one of the personnel stopped him. "I'm afraid I cannot let you leave, sir. You have been appointed as the Mission Director for this operation." The Technician said. The Representative's temper quickly flared. "You must be messing with me, surely." He retorted, "I am a representative who does paperwork, not some field. Find somebody who cares to fill the position." The Technician still stood there. "You're the only one who has had previous experience with Joan's abilities, so you're the only one with the tactical know-how to aid her." The Representative sighed, before walking back towards Joan. "Trying to take out two birds with one stone, I suppose I should not have underestimated them." He said to himself, as he passed through the gate and disappeared completely. Joan was shocked. "What the hell just happened?" She exclaimed, to which one of the Technicians shoved her through the gate as well before shutting it behind her.

Joan arrived on the other side. "What the hell just happened?" She exclaimed once again. The Representative stared back at her. "Please, just remain quiet." He said, "Your voice is extremely irritating and your ignorance is irksome." Joan decided not to reply, figuring that doing so would be rather straining to their relationship considering the fact that they now had to work together. "So, you were talking before about tech?" Joan said. The Representative looked at her. "There was supposed to be an individual already here to walk you through that, but since there is not I guess that responsibility now falls to me." He said, as he approached a table next to the teleporter. Atop the table was a pistol and six bullets along with an earpiece. The Representative picked up the pistol. "I know you have a vast array of equipment designed to maim and kill, so I took the liberty of requesting a Paralytic Weapon." He said, "The Pistol can be adjusted to take different varieties of bullets, but for the moment you will be using the EVI Rounds issued with the pistol. Think of it as a sidearm you can use in an emergency scenario, albeit a rather expensive one." The Representative loaded the EVI Rounds into the pistol and handed it to Joan, then picked up the earpiece. "This is a Communicator. Since I am your Mission Director, I shall expect you to use it." He said, "This Communicator provides me with the means to assess your current scenario, and all correspondence can be suspended by pressing the button upon the side. Note that I can override the correspondence suspension with ease, so use it sparingly." The Representative then handed the earpiece over. "You will find a vehicle to take you to the border outside." The Representative said, before adding "Good luck out there Joan, you shall certainly need it."


	4. Chapter 4

Joan found herself passing a small picket sign. "WARNING: Radioactive Activity Past This Point." The warning seemed almost underwhelming, considering the land that it bordered. An entire desert populated with scavenging dwellers, an entire land laid to waste through politics and rebellion. A part of Joan wished that she could heed that warning and turn back, but it was too late for that. She sat in the hovering jeep, and continued to drive on. Nobody else could follow her into this wasteland, and so her vehicle seated only herself and whatever rations she may require to survive. She'd need her wits about her, and all the grit she could bring to bear. She'd been known to survive in the past, yet this would be her greatest test of all. To survive the Australian Desert without succumbing to it was unlikely if not foolhardy, yet Joan had too much at stake. She would save her father. She couldn't save her, but at the very least she could save one of them. She drove on for around a hundred miles, and by nightfall had managed to set up camp deep within the irradiation zone. Luckily for her, the car itself was built to withstand the conditions of the exterior. However, she could not help but think that perhaps it wasn't perfect. She tried to coax herself to sleep, and eventually managed. It was one in the morning by the time she fell asleep, and six hours later she would be woken from it.

"Greetings, Joan." The Representative said through the communicator, which was then amplified to a scream upon the other side. Joan was pulled from her slumber rather forcefully by the loud noise. She sat up, and grabbed the communicator. "Geez, this bloody thing is loud." She said, "What do you want?" Joan sat back down in the reclining driver seat chair which had made a makeshift bed, and the Representative continued, "A progress report of course. I shall ask for a report at seven sharp each morning, and I expect you to be awake for it. Now, although I doubt you have made any particular progress upon this morning, I shall ask for a progress report anyway." Joan groaned. "Look, I've driven a fair while, according to this it says around a hundred miles since I hit the Australian Border. Other than that, I ain't got much to tell you." Joan shifted the chair back into an upright position, and got ready to continue. "Thank you, that shall be all." The Representative said, and the communicator turned off.

For four days this continued. Eventually, Joan managed to reach the first outback settlement. It was a small ranch, deep in the desert and closed off from the world. It was not a big property, but at the very least seemed like it still housed people. For the first time since she had driven into the desert, Joan decided to exit the vehicle. There was nothing that would protect her from the radiation, at least not entirely. The best she could rely on was a couple of ounces of radiation pills and her ability to survive almost anything thrown at her, but even then she didn't stand much of a chance. Thick desert sand laced the bottom of her boots as she stepped from the comfort of the car, and the arid heat of the wasteland around began to set in. Within the air-conditioned vehicle, she had not noticed how searing the Australian Desert was, and this place was frighteningly scorching. She stepped upon the porch of the ranch and knocked on the door. There was no answer. She knocked again, and there was still no answer. "Guess I'm doing this the hard way then." She said to herself, as a cylinder unfurled itself from her prosthetic forearm. She extended her arm, with the cylinder facing the lock of the door, and fired a piercing laser towards the lock to the door. The door blew open, and Joan stepped inside. A dead man laid face down upon the floor of the ranch, dressed in a bloodstained singlet with bullet holes through both his head and torso. The corpse had long since entered the stages of rigour mortis, and lay face down upon the ground, forgotten and left to die. It was a sight that Joan was all too familiar with, and instead of causing distress it was a sight that caused alarm. In the outback, there likely wouldn't be far for a killer to run, so it would be fair to assume that the assailant was still here, and that the man she was staring at was little more than the previous squatter.

Joan turned around just in time to see a crazed man in a pair of slacks and a cargo shirt raise a rifle to her face. She managed to duck as he shot a round at her, before hiding behind the corner of the door. She returned fire, shooting the beam laser from her arm at the man. She managed to hit him in the leg with the beam, but even still he tried to fire back with the old rifle, worn beyond its years. The rifle jammed, and the man looked up at Joan. "Kill me if ya' can!" He said. She stared down at him. "You couldn't swat a fly, could ya'?" He said again, this time with a menacing grin on his face. She put the man out of his misery, but in doing so brought that same misery upon herself.


	5. Chapter 5

She stared at the lifeless corpse, his eyes slightly extruded from his head and bulging from his skull in an obscure way. This man was the first of the inhabitants she had seen. His once brunette hair was dirty and streaked with grey. In looking closer, Joan saw a madman with a hint of fear, as if a part of him was still slightly human. There was not much humanity left though. For a second though, she had thought she saw a bit of herself within him. She thought she had seen her own eyes in those sockets, staring blankly back up at her. She thought she saw her own hair, stained with the dust of a land hell-bent on her destruction. She recoiled in horror, and pulled herself away from the body. Fear was something she could not allow herself to experience, she would go through hell and back, and she'd do it all again for her father.

She looked around the house, thinking to herself that the possibility of others dwelling here was likely low. She set foot in what seemed to be a rudimentary kitchen, with a microwave and cupboards of canned food. She grabbed a few and stuffed them in a knapsack, assuming that they would come in handy for the road. She could see her footprints etched into the floor as she walked, her boots lifting the dust from where she stepped. This place, despite the looter she had just killed, had likely not had an occupant for a large period of time. Each floorboard creaked beneath her feet as she walked towards the stairwell, which led toward darkness. Unfortunately, despite her ability to shoot lasers from her hand, Joan had no flashlight with her. Her lasers may create light, but she did not trust the lasers to create light without possibly creating a cave-in upon her. She searched the house for anything that could help her to brave the darkness. After trawling through the living room relentlessly, Joan was finally able to locate what she was looking for. A small flashlight, almost out of power, sat at the back of an old cupboard. She just hoped to herself that it had enough juice to light up the room downstairs. She took the flashlight and descended the staircase, shining it into the blackness.

The place seemed to be an armoury of sorts, stockpiled with guns which were since worn beyond any conceivable use. Several of the weapons were missing from their respective places, likely including the rifle which sat amidst the pool of blood next to the dead body. Whoever had lived here before, they had been prepared for something of this magnitude, but not prepared well enough. She took a step forward, and heard a crunch beneath her feet. She slowly looked down. She had stepped upon the eroding ribcage of a skeletal man in a shirt and cargo pants. She stepped back, letting out a slight scream. The man seemed to have been holding a pistol when he died, and still resting upon the man's now bony fingers was the handle of a rustic revolver. There was no doubt in her mind though, this man had been dead for a long time. Whoever had killed him had decided to pilfer a few of the guns, but had left many more. Perhaps it had been for lack of space, but those motives were all lost in the past now. She took several of the shotguns and a box of ammunition, and loaded them into the back of her vehicle. She continued on the road, feeling as if the horrors she had seen were only the beginning of what she would experience.


	6. Chapter 6

In the Australian Outback, the first thing Joan noticed was that no matter how far she travelled, most of it looked the same. Miles of red sand stretched into the horizon, littered with dying trees and small shrubs. This red sand was only momentarily interrupted by signs of civilisation such as the occasional abandoned jalopy or derelict level crossing, and even rarely a small hut adorned with a veranda built to farm animals which had since either died off or ran far from the confines of the fencing. However, this landscape changed much as she travelled further into the Radiation Zone. She began to notice rubble and waste appearing along the side of the road, and small huts had been built out of repurposed scrap. Many of the shrubs she had seen before had changed colour to a less vibrant shade of wheat. It was as if she were slowly driving into a dying land. Joan was not the sort of woman to be deterred by mere shrubbery though, and continued to drive through the night, stopping only when she could no longer drive without having to force her eyelids open. She put on the handbrake, and attempted to sleep in the vehicle. It would not be long now until she reached Junkertown, perhaps half a day of driving at the most. She drifted off into sleep.

She saw herself once again, with no Omnic Arm nor with her maturity. She was seven years old again. The Omnic Uprising had already begun yet her family were all but oblivious to it, her included. She was an only child, and they lived within a small community in which everybody knew everyone else, the sort of community in which everyone was friendly. Of course, this was necessary considering their lack of communication with the outside world: They needed one another. Of course, when everyone knows each other, it becomes a lot more painful when half of the people you love are taken from you in one fell swoop. When the Omnic forces came, Joan was a nine year old child sitting at the dining room table, eating a single piece of bread with a serving of soup. Her world was turned upside-down in that moment, when her father barged into the room and blew out the chest of a robot using a double-barreled shotgun. Her father hurled Joan over his shoulder, and she screamed not out of fear, but solely because she wanted to finish her soup and bread. She had limited comprehension of the situation at hand, but soon understood as she was met with the corpses of dead villagers paving the ground like cobblestones. She was in shock as her father ran, in an attempt to save his only daughter. They had travelled only five metres from the house when she began to recognise the people lying upon the ground. The son of the local merchant, the farm-hand on one of the other properties, and her best friend at the time. Except it was not just three; there were too many to count. However, one face stood out among many others, and as she saw it her whole world was shattered as she knew it: The Face of Her Mother.

Joan screamed as she woke up. She looked around, and slowly realised that it was all just another nightmare. However, although she had thirty or so years to get over that nightmare, it was one that had plagued her for most of her adult life. Perhaps she could have saved her at the time if she had not been so oblivious to the world around her. Her mother didn't deserve to die that day, it should have been her. She lifted her head up and peered out the car window. She couldn't undo what happened, but she could make sure that it didn't happen twice. It was still night outside across the Australian Outback, and as she drifted back to sleep she almost thought she saw the face of someone, but dismissed it as sleep lulled her into a comforting sense of security.


	7. Chapter 7

Joan awoke to the light of the Outback Sun, and as she did she sat up. Although still rather tired, she decided that it was time to get moving again and head off. She went to start up the vehicle but it did not start, instead remaining where it was, simply motionless with no explanation. She tried again. She didn't hear so much as an ignition noise, and the car showed no response. After fruitlessly repeating the process several times, she stepped outside of the vehicle and checked under the hood of the car. The first thing she noticed was that it had been opened with some sort of lever, likely a crowbar. In addition to this, upon lifting the hood, she found that many of the contraptions usually present under the hood of the vehicle had been taken. Most of the propulsion systems were irreparably damaged, and many of the basic mechanical elements had been forcibly taken. She rummaged around under the hood to check if anything of any use was still left, but anything capable of getting the vehicle moving once again was either missing or poorly disconnected and otherwise useless. The car was not going anywhere, and Joan knew that if she wanted to reach Junkertown, she was going to have to continue on foot.

Joan slung a shotgun over her shoulder on the off chance that she would need it. She found it unlikely that it would be necessary, as she already had an arm capable of firing lasers and controlling drones, but having some form of sidearm other than a paralytic pistol seemed like a good idea. She packed a large amount of tinned food in her side satchel, along with a canteen of water, and headed off into the unforgiving desert. Small plants and shrubs littered the ground, withering and dying slowly in the outback, but probably thriving once in a now far gone era. She thought that at her current pace, it would probably take her somewhere around four days to reach Junkertown, but now she lacked transportation for the return journey. One thing was for sure, and that was that she was going to have a lot of walking ahead.

Hours passed, and Joan wandered on. Hills littered the terrain, and endless dunes seemed to stretch out into eternity. To most it might have been a somewhat beautiful view, but to Joan it was just another reminder that she had to continue for an almost unfathomable distance with limited water and food. She walked on for much of the day, and her mind often drifted throughout her journey. As she continued she slowly grew more tired, desperately trying to keep in motion yet each time slowly sacrificing herself to do so. She fell to the ground. She had walked for six hours, yet felt as if she had walked for eons. She sat and tried to recoup her energy, and then continued for a few more minutes.

The sun faded and drew into night, and Joan found cover within a nearby cavern. With little in the way of light, Joan sat in the darkness as she attempted to eat a tin of food with a spoon in the darkness. She was for the most part unsuccessful in her attempts, and spilled much of it on the floor of the cavern. She cursed herself as she ate, trying and consistently failing to do so without spillage. It was then, that for a brief second, she swore she saw the shadowy figure of a man at the entrance of the cavern. He vanished as quickly as he appeared. Joan swear she had seen someone, but perhaps it was just a part of her imagination.

She told herself that there was nobody there, she was just imagining things.


	8. Chapter 8

Joan sat up, having slept a large portion of the night away. Although daylight had not quite dawned yet, she felt ready enough to continue her journey. She stood up. Her legs ached. It had been a while since she had to walk so far, for the most part she had given up combat. However, a call to arms had been issued in the form of a dying father. She had to fight now. She slung her shotgun over her back as she left the dark cave, and stepped back into the irradiated desert. It rained outside, water spilling from the darkened sky. She was honestly surprised, even if just a little. Nobody really expected it to rain too often in a desert, her least of all. She glimpsed a shadow out of the corner of her eye, but it disappeared as soon as she turned to face it. She tried to tell herself she was imagining things, but she couldn't quite do it anymore. She couldn't quite convince herself that her sight lied to her. She took the slung shotgun from her back, pumping it as she stared at where she had last seen the apparition. "Come on out!" She yelled to nobody but the endless plains and what little flora could be found out here. The rain poured down upon the woman, as she continued to stare toward nothing. She lost interest soon, however, and continued on her journey.

Rain pelted down on Joan as she continued. She walked on for hours on end, despite aching limbs and tiredness. She had to reach Junkertown. Even the uncivilised mess of the insane was better than this place, with nothing except unending plains for miles on end. She continued to walk across the plain of unending dull sand and shrubs, with each step becoming a labour which she endured, until she could do so no more. She fell on her face in the red sand, the desert soil coating her face upon her landing. She sat there, face down in the dirt, for what seemed to be a good four minutes before she heard a yell behind her. "Get up Joan!" An enraged man yelled. She was startled out of her trance of indolence, and stood up. She found herself in the middle of a military academy; Her Military Academy. "We ain't got time for pansies here, so get a bloody move on!" The enraged man yelled, and she started running again. She looked down at her right arm. The sight of a flesh arm greeted her, an arm she hadn't seen for quite a long time. She jumped and grabbed the ropes of a climbing wall, scaling it with ease. She wasn't as fit as she had used to be, and in her youth she was easily able to blitz a simple drill like this. She was sure she wouldn't be capable of that now. She reached the end, and was greeted with the face of a smiling man. "Nice job Joan." The smiling man said, "I think you just blitzed your PB." Joan stared back at the man. A dead man now. It had been a long time since she had seen him, alive or otherwise. The years had not dulled her guilt though, and looking back at him still felt like staring into an abyss of despair. She shouldn't have survived, it should have been him. She felt like crying. However, her actions in this dream were not quite her own. "Nice! Good work on yours as well, Tomas." She said, although not by her own accord. Every part of her wanted to escape. She didn't need to relive this. She didn't want to see him.

She had let him die.


	9. Chapter 9

She took her face from the dirt with a start, briefly gripped by fear before realising that she had merely awoken from some sort of bizarre dream. However, she did not quite remember falling asleep. Perhaps it was not a dream, but instead some sort of odd apparition in a sense. She could not know. It had been so long since Tomas had haunted her though, and it seemed odd that her memories of him would arise now. Her memory of him was not quite vivid like it used to be, he had been dead for so long that her memories of him had since faded, leaving him as little more than a faded image of his former self, yet even still the image once had haunted her. Now it returned. She wouldn't dwell on it though. Even in her time served protecting the innocent, not all the innocent could be protected, and that would forever haunt her. She stood up, and continued to walk across the almost tangerine sands, the colour of the soil slowly fading as she continued to edge ever closer to the source of corruption taking the life from the plain. The shrubbery seemed to have turned to a shade of lifeless and wheaty brown, what life still remained in this place continued as she progressed. Off in the distance, she saw the faint outline of what seemed to be a human, but she could not tell. For all she knew, it could have been a tree and she would not have known the difference. Her legs ached, but she forced them to continue her trek, walking in agony with each stride she took.

The desert sun began to dusk overhead. Joan continued to walk, no longer with her own mind in control, but driven now by some subconscious desire to merely continue. As she continued to walk, she began to return to awareness, and as she watched the sun slowly set overhead, she realised that she would need to sleep at some point. Joan looked across the slowly darkening landscape. There seemed to be no place for her to sleep, so instead she decided to camp outside in the wilderness. She was not lucky enough to be granted the protection of shelter tonight, and so she camped out upon the desert soil, eating another can of beans in order to compensate her ravenous hunger with some form of meal. The desert terrain seemed almost beautiful at night, despite the terrible evil that lurked within it. Perhaps once, when this place was untainted, it may have been almost inspiring to some. However, now it was cursed by the foul taint of radiation, and that beauty was corrupted with lifelessness. She spooned the beans into her mouth, and although it seemed almost tasteless, it still remained a better meal than anything else that the desert had to offer. She laid supine on the desert soil. She closed her eyes, and slowly began to drift away from reality into some aether beyond.

She found herself somewhere else, in a landscape littered with human corpses and omnic shells alike. She remembered this place, the battlefield upon which she had fought back an invasion of an army of robots, the battlefield in which she herself had lost an arm. She stared down at the weapon in her hand. It was a standard battle rifle. There was nothing particularly special about it, aside from the fact that it was gripped by two human arms. However, at the time it had been her rifle, and that in itself held at least some value to her. She ran forth across the hill toward the thick of battle, shooting in a seemingly aimless manner in an attempt to look menacing to those machines vying for her demise. She was not alone in her fight, with a small task-force acting as reinforcement in their mission. They were not the most elite squadron of soldiers perhaps, but they had faith in one another, and in the heat of battle it was faith that truly mattered. They crossed over the hill, and into the frontier of battle. She resented this, as she knew that she wasn't the one who deserved to survive this. They deserved life.

She did not.


	10. Chapter 10

The squadron headed over the hill, with the determination of a thousand men yet with numbers only totalling to ten. The smell of ignited gunpowder littered the air, a sensation that Joan sadly knew all too well. The Omnics noticed them, quickly coordinating themselves and mounting a defensive line to counter their flank. They had little preparation for battle, and only now realised the futility of their plan. However, they had come too far to fall in this battle. They shot at the Omnics, attempting to land some damage before they inevitably lost their lives. One of their team members mounted a shield in front of them, and the squadron shot at their foes as they tried to tear the shield apart with raining artillery. Joan shot at her foes with a steady stream of fire, managing to take out one of the omnic aggressors, and she watched as another member of her team seemingly fired at the robots with aimless abandon. Her squad was not well trained like she had hoped. She was not great either, but at the very least she was battle-ready and capable of fighting. Some of the men and women beside her had not even passed rudimentary arms training, and had they the time to train perhaps they could have easily faced up against the robots. However, the omnic forces were coming forth, and time was not a gift that they were granted. The shield began to fail, and still four Bastion units stood in front of it. As the shield died, the bullets of the droids pursued otherwise protected targets, with precision that only a machine could muster. Joan ducked for cover behind a pile of rubble, yet some of her other squadmates were not so lucky. Of a squadron of ten, six men lay on the ground within three seconds of fire. The only surviving four were those who had managed to find cover. Tomas and Joan were among those two. One of the dying men managed to shoot an explosive round at the Omnic defense line, which took out two of the robots. He stared up at the turrets, with an expression of fury laced with pain. He crawled forth, on the brink of death but yet clinging to that whisper of life within him that still remained. "You can take me down." He said, "But true heroes live in their honour, not in their bodies." He took a grenade from his pocket, and held it in his arms as he pulled the pin, taking out himself and one more of the omnic robots.

One omnic remained, and four humans hid behind cover from it. Tomas stared over to Joan. "We've got to get out of here!" He said, "We can't face that thing head on without getting mowed down." Joan had faith in her abilities, but even one lone omnic was difficult to defeat when it's defenses are mounted. "What do you have in mind?" She asked Tomas. He smiled, a look she knew all too well, a look she now dreaded all too greatly. "You can't. It's suicide." She said, but she knew her words would have limited impact. "It's my life Joan." He said, "One life versus three. If you ask me, that's a noble sacrifice." He went to stand, but she held him down. "You can't. I can't lose you too, Tomas." She said to him, "Ever since I was a girl, I've watched the people I cared about die, and each time I've been forced to see the bloodied remains of their desecrated corpses. I can't go through that again Tomas. There must be another way." Tomas loaded his pistol, readying himself for what he was about to do. "Listen Joan. You know there's no other way. Those bots can mow me down in three seconds, but if you can sprint behind that hill in two you'll be safe. I have faith in you. I've seen you in action, and if there's anything you're good at, it's running for the hills." He signalled to the two remaining members of the squad, before standing up and embracing the enemy fire.

He stood up from cover, and ran towards the Omnic. The Omnic fired at him, but his personal barrier kept him protected for just enough time to act as a distraction. The remaining three squad members ran at full speed towards the hill. As a second passed, Joan looked back and watched Tomas fire the small repeating pistol to no avail into the chassis of the machine. No bullet missed its mark, each one landing upon the shield that surrounded Tomas. To say it was an uphill battle for Tomas would be an understatement. He knew he would die, and he knew that there was nothing he could do to escape that inevitability. They didn't have the equipment to face these foes, their weapons were useless against them. The two other squadmates seemed to be slower than her, and as she ran they seemed to fall behind. The shield began to fail, and as Tomas fell the Omnic turned its fire upon the three ascending the hill. As Joan reached the top of the hill, one of her squadmates fell in a pool of their own blood. The other tried to run, but the Omnic wasted little time in killing the second squadmate as well. Joan ducked for cover behind the sands, and as she found cover a series of rounds pierced her left shoulder. She was safe, but she lay in a heap screaming as she clutched her bloodied arm, trying to barter with some unseen force for the lives of her dead friends in exchange for her own, yet it did not listen.

Nobody listened.


	11. Chapter 11

Flitting between that aetherial world within her own mind and the physical one she occupied, she attempted to soldier on. She would lift herself from the ground, before lapsing in consciousness and returning to the lulls of sleep, before being promptly reawakened by the horrors presented to her by a long forgotten past. Her larynx had now all but surrendered, her voice worn and raspy from her own persistent cries. She did not want to relive this: she had fought so hard to escape it. In an ephemeral instant of awareness, she stood. Staring forward, an image of Tomas forced its way into her vision, as if a lack of closure were not enough torment to suffer through. He smiled genuinely, driving Joan to hysterics: unable to differentiate between reality and the illusory conjurations of this irradiated desert. She stared down at her omnic arm, which appeared to her covered with blood. She wandered forth with the tether she still had to reality, trying desperately to reach her destination: anywhere but here. She did not move far. The apparition of Tomas spoke. "Long time, no see." It said, the words dealing as much damage to her psyche as a thousand bullets could do to her flesh. She still crawled in futility, the desert seemingly ebbing the very energy from beneath her skin. "You know, you always were a fighter, as was I. I always liked that about you." He continued, "Shame we ended up being fighters, especially when that fight took so much from us." She tried to scream back at him, but her vocal cords had all but given out by this point; the only thing that emerged from her lips was a rather quiet wheezing sound.

He took a step forward. Though he appeared to have all the natural ingredients of a living human, he seemed lifeless still. Like a cadaver resurrected, there was some integral aspect absent from his assembly that prevented him from appearing wholly alive, as if he were merely torn from his grave and sent to walk the earth rather than being rejuvenated and imbued with the traits that are considered natural to a person. Every facet of his being seemed artificially constructed, yet his realism seemed to protest that very notion. He took another step. Visible anguish coalesced with unbridled terror, her eyes becoming glassy with tears as she stared. In a manner akin to a victim of Medusa, she was paralysed with an unassailable variation of intense panic, watching vigilantly the illusion before her despite her intent to do the opposite. She opened her mouth slightly. Unable to speak, she mouthed the words 'go away' to the figure before her, yet the revenant persisted. The motions of her lips did not disrupt his rehearsed routine. He acted like a thesp, imbued with the words of some playwright, and unable to be interrupted from his performance. She mouthed those two words again, this time more forcefully than prior. That genuine smile he once more became malign and twisted, as her better sense was domineered and browbeaten by the madness of this radioactive country.

As Tomas edged closer, she raised her omnic arm towards him. The laser within was primed and ready to fire, though the person wielding it was most certainly not. No tears left to cry, no shrieks able to escape from her throat, in one moment she had experienced enough misery to exhaust every means of showcasing sadness that she could muster. With what little of her voice remained, she murmured the word "don't". He was unfazed, as he continued to walk towards her, an aspect of malevolence to him now. "I sacrificed myself, and you let me rot." He said, "Where's the justice in that?" Continuing to make his way towards her in a laggardly manner, his face was slowly contorted into some inhuman expression of depravity and vehement ire. He was inches before her face. Barely retaining enough tenacity to do so, she closed her eyes and discharged the laser into his sternum. She opened her eyes. He was gone. As both delirium and fatigue overtook her, she returned to that slumbrous realm.

Yet upon the edge of the horizon, a figure watched her from afar.

 _Author's Note: Pardon the Hiatus_


End file.
